


Taking a Step

by Larkawolfgirl



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Body Language, Culture Differences, Demiromantic Character, Demisexual Character, Demisexuality, Developing Relationship, M/M, Self Confidence Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 12:35:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10101041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larkawolfgirl/pseuds/Larkawolfgirl
Summary: There is an unbreachable wall between Yuuri and those around him. The only person he reaches out to is none other than famous skating superstar Viktor Nikiforov, who just happens to be banging on that wall.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this back when the show was still airing. I still really like the idea of demi!Yuuri even though episode 10 kind of destroyed that as canon. But you never know, maybe your inner self can be sexual while your outer self is demi? Because putting the party aside, YOI still seems like Yuuri discovering the truth about himself and love, and him being demi seems so realistic to me.

Yuuri has never desired to be intimate with someone. There is an unbreachable wall between himself and those around him. Relationships are not impossible, but having to stand on his tip toes long enough to make direct contact is exhausting. Observing others is different since it can be done safely through his figurative window. This is where he spent so much time watching Viktor Nikiforov (famous, entirely out-of-reach, figure skater), the one person he thought he might not mind standing on his toes for.

Not that he ever dreamed that could even be a possibility. This was definitely not the reason why skating became his own life’s direction. It was simply a means of feeling closer to him. First by imitation, then by treading the same ice, and finally by laying eyes on his actual person. This narrowing gap was enough.

But then out of nowhere Viktor is right there in front of him. Real and alive and knocking right against his protective wall. Surprisingly, it isn’t unnerving the same way it is with anyone else. This is Viktor after all. The man he always idolized and reached toward. But his wall is still there and he is used to pulling away. It doesn’t help that Viktor is so _intimate_. He invades Yuuri’s personal space from the beginning, touching him in places he shouldn’t, gazing too intently, prying into topics Yuuri would better leave unsaid. Wearing revealing clothing and using informal speech. What’s odd is that none of it feels unwelcome. Instead, they make Yuuri question himself in ways he hasn’t before. Because he likes having Viktor there and he likes the way Viktor treats him as if he is someone special rather than the second-rate skater living in his shadow that he is.

The longer they stay together, the easier it is to forget that he comes from a culture where such intimacies are less intimate. The more he begins to want to bind Viktor to him in at least a small way. He is used to watching Viktor, and from this close, he can notice miniscule differences emerging. Viktor isn’t just banging against his wall anymore; he is straining to reach over it.

This is when Yuuri’s mind stalls. Because this is Viktor Nikiforov, skating superstar, admired by millions, reaching toward him, a nobody. This is Viktor Nikiforov acknowledging his potential and encouraging him. Viktor touches him more frequently now, and Yuuri shies away from those touches less and less until finally he doesn’t shy away from them at all. Yuuri feels like he’s fallen through the ice without any chance of finding his footing. So he holds onto Viktor and how he makes him feel. As if he can accomplish whatever it is he strives for. As if he is worthy of wanting more.

Which he realizes he does. As suddenly as a breeze blows in through an open door, he knows he wants _something_ with Viktor beyond skater and coach. They already are something, but he’s not sure what that something is. He isn’t even sure what it is he feels for Viktor. Love is the most fitting word he can think of, but it is both larger and smaller than that. Viktor seems to be telling him he wants something as well through his affectionate touches and supportive words, yet Yuuri isn’t used to these things. The only way he can convey himself is through his skating, when actions speak stronger than words.

Love. Eros. Unfamiliar things, yet he embraces them, refines them, concurrently with his developing feelings. He no longer just skates but seduces, through movement and thought and incentive. He wants to win but it’s all about Viktor. To communicate. To make him proud. To uphold his reputation. To keep Viktor watching.

Finally, he works up the courage to thread their fingers together. It’s a simple touch by Western standards, but it nearly makes Yuuri’s heart flutter out of his chest. He’s taken a step forward, he’s met Viktor where he is beyond that protective wall. He’s vulnerable and unprotected, walking out on the limb that Viktor will shelter him. Their foreheads connect. Yuuri is all Viktor can see (all Yuuri wants him to see), and Yuuri feels a rush of satisfaction as _Viktor’s_ eyes widen for once before he nods as if knowing exactly what it is the contact means.

There is freedom in that moment.

No one else can satisfy Viktor.

 

But what if he can’t either?

He’s in first place. It is as invigorating as it is terrifying. He isn’t skating for himself anymore but for Viktor alone. He’s his extension and what he does is reflected on him. Viktor was the one who came, but Yuuri is the one tying them together. They seem to have surpassed skater and coach, but the doubts speak too loudly to go unheard. What if he is the only one who thinks so? What if Viktor were to abandon him?

He can’t afford to lose. He can’t afford to lose Viktor.

All he can do is run through his program, imagine scenarios where he manages to make Viktor stay, and catalog the possible reasons why he might want to. Needless to say, he barely sleeps that night. And the sleep he does get is restless, leaving him groggy and listless.

When Viktor finds him, he feels a tinge of self-hatred. He’s already lost even before it’s begun.

But Viktor doesn’t act so. Instead, he plays the drawback off as meaningless. He still has time for a nap, he says, before securing him into doing so by falling asleep himself right on top of him. His weight is calming, but Yuuri still can’t find sleep. As far as he knows, Viktor didn’t set an alarm, and Yuuri imagines the humiliation of missing his own program over and over again. Imagines the look of shame reflected in Viktor’s eyes.

At some point he did drift off—for what couldn’t have been more than an hour—and he feels a bit more relaxed but no more confident. His feet feel ten kilograms heavier and his mind is reeling.

Suddenly all he can hear is applause, thundering through his eardrums and down to his chest which clenches tightly. He sucks in a breath, having to manually force himself to breathe. Viktor wasn’t looking at him, but now he is. His face is unreadable, but then his hands press over his ears drowning out everything aside from his face impossibly close and the feel of contact.

There is just the two of them.

Realization hits him like an anvil. All this time he’s been trying to hold up Viktor’s reputation, trying to prove his value and protect Viktor, never once considering that Viktor might be doing the same. But that is exactly what he is doing now, protecting him. Yuuri blinks back the urge to cry, instead giving a resolute nod. He can’t break down now, he needs to go out there and win. To show Viktor he is worth his protection.

 _I love you_. The words drift to the forefront of his mind unbidden.

His chest aches when Viktor smiles.

Skating is a catharsis. It is putting all your emotions out on display for the world to see. The more exposed you are the better your skating, the more passionate, the more interpretable. His Japanese heritage has been a hindrance to this, and his protective wall has not helped either, but now he looks only at Viktor as _Yuri on Ice_ begins to thrum across the ice. There is only Viktor, he is skating for his eyes alone.

_I love you._

The music is a story, the story of his life. Of his passions and ideals. He’s done this routine a hundred times, but never has he done it with Viktor as the sole thought at the forefront of his mind. Never has he done it so open, so honest.

He idolizes Viktor. He takes up skating for Viktor. He reaches for Viktor. He _falls in love_ with Viktor. He confesses to Viktor.

He skates and skates, stumbles, but presses on. Actions speaking louder than any words ever could. He looks toward Viktor for as long and as often as he can, eyes smoldering with his unspoken truths. Of how powerful, how precious he makes him feel. How much he wants to know him more, to connect with him in so many ways. All the things he feels and wants that he _can’t_ put into words.

When the song finally ends and he’s breathless and dripping with sweat, his eyes fall onto Viktor once more finally able to take in the man’s expression through the stillness even as the world explodes into applause.

Viktor’s face is covered with his hands, making it unreadable. Yuuri’s heart ceases beating, wondering if he understood. Their cultures are different, and there are infinite ways he could have been misinterpreted. Dread pumps through his veins instead of blood in the half second it takes before Viktor is barreling toward him.

“Victor! I did great, right?”

His eyes are shining, all the answer he needs.

But then Viktor is kissing him. _Kissing him_. In front of thousands of people. Conditioning commands he push him away but he can’t, not when for the first time in his life his wall is nowhere in sight. When for the first time his thoughts fall silent.


End file.
